


Bad News Travels Fast

by ashtopop



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Black Friday, Car Trouble, Cooking, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Holidays, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Snow, Thanksgiving Dinner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-11-25
Packaged: 2018-08-22 17:10:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8293504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashtopop/pseuds/ashtopop
Summary: Percy knows what it's like to sit at an empty table, with nothing but wishful thinking to fill the chairs around you. When he invites Vex'ahlia home for break, it's because that's what friends do. Friends.Thanksgiving Modern AU, Background Vaxleth





	1. Chapter 1

Percy has never particularly enjoyed Thanksgiving. Once, his family was too big for the dinner table and one continuous conversation, shouting over each other to be heard even as bread rolls were thrown across the table. Now he and Cassandra sit alone at the big table with take-out Chinese and dull expressions, chopsticks clinking over an old radio playing just to fill the silence. Last year Cass managed to snag an invite to an overseas conference to present a paper, leaving him to the cold, empty house—despite the lie he told Cassandra about an invite to Keyleth’s home. He was sure Keyleth would have invited him if he’d asked or even told her the situation, but he… hadn’t.

He hadn’t told any of them—the friends he’d somehow acquired while away at school—because it was nice, for once in his life, to not be the kid whose backstory was splashed across page one. Whitestone was home, of course, but home for Percy meant over a thousand people who knew his name and all the gory details of his family’s deaths. Cassandra dealt with it better, using the money from suits and insurance to build the community library and recreation center and remodeled stations for the volunteer police and fire staffs. Percy dealt with _it_ by burying himself in engine oil and smoke—projects of repetitive tasks and little thought, because he wanted, _needed_ , to get out of his own head.

Keyleth had issued an invitation this year, however: to Vax, and, by extension, Vex. The twins hadn’t spent a holiday alone as long as Vex could remember. Percy found Vex on the couch, laptop nestled against her knees and tried tear tracks on her cheeks, and she finally admitted that the twins didn’t have the _money_ for both to fly to Keyleth’s, no matter what mental and financial gymnastics she ran their finances through. And even if they did, she wasn’t sure she wanted to be the third wheel in their awkward relationship. But she didn’t want to be alone.

Percy knew being alone, but he also knew that even as she rattled off suggestions for a possible friendsgiving that he couldn’t abandon Cassandra to sit alone at that big table with the ghosts of their dead family. Percy knew the silence of one's utensils at the dining table, the hush of seats filled only by ghosts and wishful thinking.

So naturally, Percy invited her home, ignoring the urge to physically reassure her when she shuttered the hope in her eyes with reserved fear. Instead, he assured her, they would drive—or, rather, _he_ would drive, given he would not let anyone else drive him—and he would pay for gas, because he had to go home anyway. That she jumped up to hug him, her arms warm around his shoulders and his nose in her dark braid was surprising, but, perhaps even more surprisingly, not unwelcome.

“Okay,” she said, with a soft smile as she pulled away, her hands still at his shoulders. “But we’ll take Trinket, okay? It’s only fair to put the mileage and wear on my car if you’re going to be paying for gas.” She pulled away and bumped him with her hip as she moved past. “Besides, parking over breaks is atrocious and _clearly a racket_ , and you said you’d change my oil, didn’t you?" she continued, putting on her most charming smile.

"Of course," Percy said, nodding distractedly, his mind already turning, but was surprised again by Vex rushing back, planting a kiss on his cheek with a flush.

“Thank you, darling. You always know exactly what to do,” she whispered. He looked down, eyebrow cocked, but she had already turned, her hair flying behind her as she hurried upstairs to tell Vax. If his composure was broken by the sudden burst of affection, no one was around to testify to it. And if Vax shot him dirty looks the rest of the week, he didn't tell her.

* * *

When Percy hears the knock, he’s standing at his bathroom sink with a toothbrush in his mouth. He looks at the clock—fifteen minutes before Vex was due to arrive—and then himself in the mirror with a grimace, holding the brush between his teeth as he struggles to tame his hair with two hands. Downstairs, Vex stands in the doorway, bright smile and battered suitcase stowed in her stationwagon. He ushers her in with a loose gesture to the sofa.

“Sorry I’m early, but you weren’t answering my texts so I wanted to make sure you were awake,” she says, pulling the door shut behind her. Percy’s eyebrows furrow as he pulls the phone out of his pocket, looking down at it with curiosity. It’s dead, which shouldn’t surprise him because he’s forgetful and charges it before bed, so if bed is passing out in his workshop it just doesn’t get charged. When he looks up from this newest irritant on a morning too early anyway, Vex is giving him a strange look.

“Sorry,” she says, averting her eyes to a detailed pencil drawing laying open on the coffee table—an exploded diagram of something intricate and mechanical. “I just don’t think I’ve ever seen you with your glasses off.” Percy takes the toothbrush out of his mouth.

“I’ve never seen _you_ without my glasses on, either. Quite… blurry,” he says, grinning. She rolls her eyes even as she laughs and he rushes back upstairs to finish his morning routine, gold-rimmed glasses again perched on the bridge of his nose—one of the few family heirlooms he sees every day.

"Two sugars, black, right?” he asks once he’s done, heading into the kitchen. Vex startles at the question, carefully moving her eyes from the spartan—yet tasteful, she notices, but then does Percy ever do anything without it reeking old money—living room she was inspecting. White walls and wood floors, his apartment above their five-bedroom looks similar. He has a small loft, white walls and wood floors, but his is uncluttered beyond sketches pinned to walls and coffee mug rings on the table. Keyleth’s fresh flowers and Pike’s candles do much to brighten the space below, but Percy’s apartment receives none of the same attention.

“Right,” she says, settling back into the couch. He nods absently, pouring her a cup of coffee and refilling his own from the press, mind still whirring with his latest project. “So… how far away are we going?” she says, attempting to break the silence. She feels like she should know where Percy lived, but his life before them is all but a blank—just like his apartment, apparently. She’s seeing shades to Percy he hasn’t let any of them see before, and she isn’t sure whether to be thankful or terrified. 

“Oh, Whitestone’s about seven hours out. It’s in the mountains, so how are your brakes?”

“Should be fine, I had them replaced a couple months ago,” she says. Percy nods, taking a deep gulp of coffee.

“Sounds good. Ready to head out?” he asks. She nods, bouncing on her heels as he holds open the door, grabbing his wool coat from the rack beside it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... we're doing this. Strap in, because we're about to hit trope-y holiday hell.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end of this chapter deals heavily with PTSD and dissociation, because Percy in any universe has experienced some Bad Shit™

Of the cars and bicycles clustered in their too-small parking strip, Percy isn’t sure which one Vex’s actually is. He knows… more about her family life than she’d probably like by virtue of receiving rent checks. While he hasn’t heard of any messy scandals, he knows both of the twins use their mother’s maiden name and don’t speak about their father. Certainly neither of them planned to go home for Thanksgiving. Still, with rent at least paid through whatever agreement was struck, he would have expected more than the vehicle sitting in front of him, its electric locks popping with a mechanical _thud_ as he pressed “unlock.”

As it turns out, Vex drives a behemoth station wagon at least the same age she is. The cloth interior is immaculate, though, and when he starts it, it lets out a pleasingly low growl with no obvious signs of age or wear. He shrugs, pulling the door shut behind him. At the very least, it weighs nearly as much as a tank and the door shuts with the reassuring sound of a vault closing.

“I call him Trinket,” Vex says, her hand placed lovingly on the dashboard. “I already checked the fluids and tire pressure, so we should be all set!” She practically bounces in her seat, so while he’d usually insist on checking himself he pushes the clutch and begins backing out of the driveway, maneuvering around Keyleth’s Beetle and Vax’s motorcycle.

“Mine’s called Pepperbox,” he says, after a moment. Vex has lost the train of conversation in his long pause and looks at him with raised eyebrows for a moment before catching on.

“Why do you call it that?” she asks, her nose wrinkling.

“Six cylinders. Like the revolver?”

“Oh, right, that makes sense."

“Why do you call yours Trinket?”

“Because,” she starts, mouth open as she tries to put the words in order. “… he’s a souvenir. Craigslist deal gone south,” she finishes. She looks away, out the window, and he doesn’t push. “So tell me, what’s Whitestone like?” she asks, and if he notices the falsely bright note in her voice he pretends not to. Everyone has secrets, he reminds himself, even his ragtag group of unlikely tenants turned friends. Even Vex, whose light should never be dimmed. He clears his throat.

“Well, it’s pretty rural and agricultural still, though we’re starting to do a lot more with solar energy, and it’s named for the local marble mine, but that has been closed for a long time. The population is just under 5,000, and there’s a small local high school—I only went there for a year, so I’m thankfully spared many of the awkward social niceties in the small grocery store.” She raises an eyebrow at the encyclopedia-like listing of facts, but shrugs it off.

“Is that where your sister goes?” Vex asks, fiddling with the seat controls to lean backward a touch more.

“Hmm? No, she’s in college, but she’ll have already flown in by the time we get there,” he says, glancing at his watch where his wrist leans against the steering wheel. “Actually, she’s probably already there. She said something about needing to get some work done though, so I’m not sure how much we’ll actually see her this week.” Vex smiles, leaning her head against the window and looking over at Percy, whose stiff posture would be concerning if she didn’t _know_ he knows how to drive, having watched him work on his car outside her window one too many times to be considered just friendly interest. How a man so posh can look so good covered in engine grease is beyond her.

“What are you studying, again?” she asks, in part to distract herself. He chuckles and half shrugs.

“Civil engineering,” he says, wicked smile growing as he continues, “though my advisor wants me to ‘diversify’ by adding a language minor. I’m terribly tempted to pick a obscure language that will be of no use to my résumé. And you’re... an accounting major?”

“Right. Pre-vet,” she says with a nod, a small smile flitting across her lips because he remembered. It’s a boring major, she knows, but she’s always had a head for mathematics. Vax, on the other hand, fit right in with the other philosophy and theology students, even if his aesthetic tended more toward art major with his penchant for wearing all black. “I saw the drawing out on your coffee table and ones pinned to your walls. Working on a project?” Percy’s smile is crooked as he finally lifts one hand off the steering wheel, rubbing at the back of his neck as he flushes.

“Oh, thanks. They’re just a hobby,” he says.

“They’re talent, Percival,” Vex says, in the teasing tone she uses when one of her friends is doing something ridiculous—like not listening to her sage advice. The flush only grows when Vex deploys her signature wink, spreading up his neck, and that’s when she realizes the flutterings of attraction she feels may very well become a problem.

* * *

After three and a half hours of casual conversation and comfortable silence Percy exits the interstate and pulls into a gas station. They’re in the foothills of the mountains now, snowy peaks on the horizon beyond an approaching gray line of storms.

“If you want to go in first and get snacks I’ll pump the gas and check the oil,” Percy says, shifting into park in front of a pump. Vex nods, reaching into the ashtray for a fistful of crumpled small bills she usually uses to pay on-campus parking fees. She can hear the hood pop as she walks away and hopes Percy is careful around the hot engine, a lesson his scarred and nicked hands prove he hasn’t totally learned. She shivers against the cold wind and presses her face into the collar of her leather jacket, hustling into the warmth of the gas station.

Once inside, she whips out her phone to text Vax that she’s safe. Instead, she’s greeted with zero bars and a mournful no signal symbol she surpresses a groan at. She’ll just have to text Vax when she gets there, she decides, heading into the restroom after tucking the phone back in her pocket.

She emerges as Percy enters the gas station, heading to the back as well. As she decides on a drink—a sugary concoction she’s sure she’ll regret—she sees his white hair over the aisles, heading for the gas station’s coffee display. They offer vanilla and candy flavors, but he beelines straight for the espresso, filling a paper cup halfway.

“Do you have what you need?” he asks, and Vex cedes to the rumble of her stomach, grabbing the closest snacks—a Slim Jim and some Hostess product before heading to the cash register. As she fumbles with her cash, Percy produces a card and pays for the lot, prompting another thank you. Thinking of Pike and Grog’s arrangement—Pike helps him proofread papers, and in return he does her laundry (he’s a true master at color sorting)—she wonders if there’s anything _Percy_ needs help with, because she’s beginning to feel a bit indebted. Thinking of Pike she feels the urge to take her phone out and snap a pic of their bounty, a junk food and caffeine haven, to text her.

She has to suppress a giggle at the thought of Pike’s horrified expression, a fear for their health that would surely transcend the planes and cause her to corporealize in front of them—smacking the food out of their hands.

Rather than getting back on the interstate, Percy pulls onto the country highway and Vex settles in for a few more hours of scenic views, vegetation dotting craggy slopes and sheep wandering aimlessly in the wide open. 

* * *

The large, fake jewel strung around Vex’s rearview mirror bounces in time with the rhythm of the road, tires over the pavement creating a wobble in the frame he’s concerned about, but expects will wait for his full garage and toolkit back home. The turquoise feathers strung beside the jewel shine in the jewel’s sparkling from the setting sunlight, and he glances over at the sleeping Vex with a small smile, shifting gears. She’s curled into the arm of her leather jacket, head hammocked in the bend of her seatbelt.

It’s beginning to snow, small white flakes piling at the edge of the road and at the hood edges. The bitter wind howls past the vehicle, but the only cassette tape Vex appears to have is the "Electric Slide” single, and his dead phone rules out the auxiliary converter. 

He would never let another soul drive him—he needs some semblance of control, especially here on this road where he remembers the shriek of rubber on pavement and the bone-chilling, stomach-dropping feeling of weightlessness—but he finds that having someone else in the car is not so bad as he feared. Percy is generally not great at being alone, but he finds he doesn’t mind the silence so much with the wind moving past them and Vex’s deep, even breathing keeping time. His hands are steadier on the steering wheel than they’ve been in ages, and he feels like he’s actually inhabiting his own body instead of drifting away.

He shifts to head up another hill—they’re growing steeper, now that they’re about an hour outside Whitestone, and he’s going to have to start thinking about waking Vex—and the peace is shattered when the clutch hits the floor with no resistance. The transmission, likely worn before they even started the journey, has finally had enough. Percy glances in the rearview mirror, coasting to the shoulder until they can finally roll to a stop.

Despite the panic he can’t quite avoid—they’re far too close to white crosses and flowers at the side of the highway—his movements seem assured. He presses the hazard lights and they begin ticking over with mechanical clicks, and he sets the parking break, twisting the wheel toward the ditch so that if they were hit from behind they wouldn’t be in the direct line of traffic.

Then he sits, hands shaking on the steering wheel and eyes squeezed shut. He tries not to remember, but the memories intrude anyway—forcing their way over an innocent mechanical failure anyone would assure him was is not his fault. Vex would, if he woke her, but instead he grits his teeth, knuckles white on the steering wheel.

He’d been asleep, Cassandra’s head resting against his shoulder in the back of Julius’ car. He tries not to remember Cassandra’s small, white fingers plucking at his seatbelt, her hair matted with both of their blood. They stumbled from the car and into the snow, the smell of gas on snow sickeningly harsh. Black smoke rolled out of the hood of Julius’ car, impaled as it was on the vehicle in front of them—their parent’s vehicle. Their mother, father, Vesper, Whitney, Oliver, Julius… His voice is hoarse from screaming, jagged sobs, and the cloying, thick black smoke that worms its way down his throat and into his lungs, but no one follows them into the snow. He's slipping tenses, the last breaths of his family escaping into the mountain air, and-

He scrubs his hands over his face now, popping the hood and stepping out into the blustery wind, the cold cutting through some of the memory of crackling flames. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the shoulder.

Vex wakes to the sound of a car door. Percy is out under the hood checking things out, she assumes that can’t be a good sign even as she rubs the sleep from her eyes. The landscape around them is more mountainous than it was as she drifted off, but even so she isn’t sure how far out they are.

Snow has gathered in the corners of the windshield wipers, and the sun, while it’s past midway through the sky, is doing nothing to melt the build-up. In the gap between the hood and the car she sees movement, so pushes open the door.

She steps outside the vehicle, pulling her leather jacket closer around herself and pulling the hood up. One of Percy’s hands is braced against the frame of the car, knuckles white and forearm muscles taught, but his eyes are unfocused, starring into the engine.

“Percy?” she asks, putting her hand on his shoulder. He flinches from her with an audible breath and she pulls her hand back like she’s touched something hot. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“You didn’t,” he says, raking one hand through his hair. He pulls away from the hood, reaching both hands to shut it, and leans against it once its closed, looking out at the mountainous horizon. They look bluish purple in the snow haze, peaks white with snow. She joins him against the hood, looking out over a curving county highway slowly disappearing under snow.

Percy reaches in his breast pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. The pack is still in its plastic wrap, and he unwinds the strip, stuffing the plastic into another pocket. She watches his hands shake in silence, a gust of wind sending the escapee strands from her braid across her face. He gets the cigarette out of the pack and the pack back in his pocket, but his fingers fumble over the lighter, unable to keep the flame lit long enough.

He swears and she slides off Trinket’s hood, feet landing with a crunch in the snow. She plucks the lighter from his fingers and uses her other hand to shield the flame from the wind, bringing it to the cigarette he has clenched between his teeth in quickly fading irritation. His cheeks are hollow with his inhale almost before the cigarette is lit.

“It’s a terrible habit,” she says by rote, voice low between them as she tucks the lighter back into the breast pocket of his wool coat, patting the lump it makes.

“I know,” he says, smoke curling around his jaw as he exhales against the wind, left hand coming up to pluck the cigarette from his lips again as he leans his head back. His Adam’s apple bobs hard twice in quick succession as he tries to get himself under control, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. She tries not to push, but when she puts her left hand down on the hood, settling next to him again, it finds his right and she tangles her fingers with his.

It’s a long moment before he speaks.

“Your transmission died. It wasn’t a big deal and we weren’t in any danger,” he says. His eyes find hers and she’s surprised when he squeezes the fingers she’s looped into his grasp. “But I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. If I wouldn’t have insisted we take Trinket we would be at your home drinking something warm by now. So, don’t worry about it,” she says, smiling up at him. “Trinket’s an old car. I’ll get him fixed up.”

“The transmission’s probably going to cost more than the car is worth, even if I do the labor,” Percy says, his expression skeptical as he turns to look at the car, letting go of her hand. His eyes narrow at the vehicle as he considers the work required, but he’ll do it, of course.

“You don’t have to. I’ll get it fixed anyway,” Vex says, shrugging. Percy mentally ticks through his memory for parts he might have in Whitestone.

“I’m going to need to let Cassandra know,” Percy says, again running a hand through his hair. He drops his cigarette, not quite fully smoked, onto the cement, crushing the ash into the snow with his shoe.

“My phone doesn’t have signal and the cigarette lighter doesn’t work. I... was going to get one of those emergency battery chargers with my holiday bonus, but…” Percy paces the length of the car, trying to think in the blowing wind and snow.

“Well, we need to get back in the car,” he says, opening the back door. Vex nods, sliding in past him and scooting to the passenger’s side of the backseat. He climbs in as well, throwing his wool coat back in the front seat for the moment before settling in. “Cassandra will send someone out for us eventually. Do you have any emergency supplies?”

Vex nods, grateful to finally be of some use. She twists behind her into the trunk, peering into a pilfered milk crate she has her supplies stashed in.

“I have… canned soup and camping spoons, a first aid kit, a hunting knife. Um,” she shuffles a few things in the box. “I have also have a warm set of clothes for both Vax and me.” She sits back down, giving him a critical eye. “I don’t know if they’ll fit you. Vax is a bit-" she demonstrates the difference in their body widths with a hand motion Percy finds vaguely flattering.

“That’s good,” he says. “We’re only about half an hour out, but the nearest gas station is beyond even that, so I don’t recommend we try for it. When we don’t show up on time and Cassandra can’t get ahold of me she’ll send a search party, I’m sure.” Vex nods.

“I looked at the forecast this morning. I don’t think the snow is supposed to get too much worse, so at least we won’t have a tow ban to contend with,” Vex says, looking out the back window into the field beside them, gently sloping hills turning into mountains made hazy by snow in the distance. She laughs, shaking her head. “You know, I’m actually a member of one of those roadside assistance services, but you have to be able to get ahold of them first.”

They both watch the snow tap against the window, sticking in the corners as their breath fogs the inside. Percy’s eyes are wistful, watching the horizon, tracing the blur of mountain and gray clouds where they meet. He isn’t shaking any more, but preternaturally still—still tense with whatever happened outside.

“I’m sorry, Percy,” Vex says again. She leans to press a kiss to his cheek, but he turns to respond as she does, their lips brushing. The stuttered apology is in her throat, at the tip of her tongue before he chases, tilting his head to make the kiss deeper, stretching over the space between them. There’s a tinge of desperation to the kiss, and the metal surprise that they’re actually doing this after _months_ of sexual tension and innuendo, but it’s comfortable. Warm. Her hands slide up his neck and into his hair, anchoring him to her.

When she catches breath between positions it smells of him. His hair is soft between her fingers, softer than she would have expected. She can’t help the breathy moan as he runs the bridge of his nose down her jaw, open-mouthed kisses trailing down her neck, but at the sound he looks up with something like surprise, eyes wide behind gold frames.

“Are you… sure about this, Percy?” Vex asks, pulling away enough to really look at him. She fears pushing him too far past his carefully constructed boundaries even as she wants to pull him to her. She’s done casual sex. She _likes_ casual sex. But nothing with Percy feels casual—she’s not sure it could _be_ casual, knowing him—and she doesn’t want it to be.

_“Absolutely_.” Her eyes track up from his kiss-swollen lips as he speaks, and she can’t help the shot of arousal at the determined flash in his icy blue eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating will likely go up next chapter.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the backseat.

With one hand she pushes him down into the backseat and climbs over him, pressing her body to his and ignoring his low, heated chuckle as he looks up at her. His pupils are blown wide under his glasses and his rough, nimble fingers are working the clasp of her bra under her tank top, her shrugged off leather jacket somewhere on the floor in the front seat.

She grinds against him, the seams of their jeans meeting as she groans, pressing one hand to the headliner and doing it again, riding him through the fabric even as he arches his hips to seek out more contact—more friction. He has her bra unclasped so she shimmies one arm out of it and then pulls down the strap of the other, tugging it out the arm hole of her tank top and leaning over him, feeling her nipples scrape against the cotton and the warmth of his body, pebbling instantly. He reaches behind her and tugs her face down to his, one hand on the back of her neck and the other on the hip trapped between them and the backseat leather.

Her mouth meets his in blind fervor, her eyes sliding closed with the delicious rub of their bodies against each other and his full lips on hers. She finds the divots of his hipbones with questing fingers, sliding under the waistband of his jeans and running them around the band, brushing ever so slowly over the small patch of hair leading below. He chases her mouth, arching upward, his tongue curling around hers. She feels it and knows she wants to feel this man read a novel between her thighs, tracing each letter on the apex of her—all staccato heartbeats and heated breaths.

As he sits up she maneuvers her hands to the top button of his shirt, unclasping the first and leaning to kiss the revealed skin. There are scars she’s never seen—burns, maybe?—but she doesn’t let her eyes linger on them because there’s so much more to see, so much more to Percy than whatever demons he fights against.

She opens each button with kisses down his chest, his breath low and heated as he watches her with undivided attention. Her fingers trail down the fabric, teasing him, looking up at him like she wants to later—his cock in her mouth as he rides the edge of climax, hands fisted in silk (because of course Percy would have silk) sheets and bruises forming on her knees. She wants him every way she can have him in this moment, and she’ll let that scare her later.

Working the rolled sleeves down his toned arms, she leans up to kiss him, neck straining to reach until he surges forward to capture her mouth with his. She discards the button-up beside them in favor of raking her fingers through his white hair, his glasses lost at some point in the shuffle. She presses his lips to hers slowly, fingers carding through his hair, and waits as his hands settle on her thighs, massaging them for a moment before drifting up her body, watching the hem of her tank top to pull it up and over her head. When he does, her hair is loose around her shoulders and he lets out a small sound, reaching forward with body and mouth to lave his tongue against one rosy pink nipple. He cups the other with his free hand, lightly running his teeth over her left even as he tugs on the right, a shoot of pleasure and impatience traveling down her spine and to the molten pool building between her legs.

It’s crowded in the backseat, but Vex can’t bring herself to care when his skin is on hers, kneading her small breasts with rough, clever fingers even as her own trace the hard planes of his muscle revealed to her. He pulls her close, rearranging them so she is again sitting on his lap, and dives in for a hungry kiss. She finds the clasp of his jeans and tugs, pulling the button free and moving to unzip him. She lets her hand linger a little too low and with a little too much pressure, cupping his balls and dragging up the hard shaft of him through the jean material until she again reaches the top of the zipper, repeating the action as she pulls it down. She grips him through his boxers, letting the heat of her breath sink in before she climbs back astride him. He arches just enough that she can pull his jeans down around his knees.

“Percy, darling, be a dear?” she asks, shimmying her hips at him and bitting her lip. He bends at the waist, drawing closer to see as she balances herself with palms against the headliner. He runs his fingers down her ribs and stomach, bring them to rest at her waistband. He pulls the button away from the denim, looking up at her through mussed white hair. She watches behind hooded eyes as he pulls down her zipper, pushing the denim down. His eyebrows raise as he works the fabric off her, looking up at her in question.

She nods and he pulls them off of her, her mind silently thanking Keyleth for her early morning yoga ritual as she contorts to pull the denim all the way off of her long legs in the backseat.

When she settles back on top of him, the heat of her seeping into his bare abdomen, she reaches over the seat into the back. He can’t help but watch her breasts as she stretches, the taught skin inviting. Vex returns with a condom clasped between two fingers, one lip bit between her front teeth. Percy raises his eyebrows, plucking it from her and ripping open the wrapper with his teeth.

“Always be prepared?” he asks. She holds her palm out for it back, backing down his legs. She drags herself ever so slowly over his cock, a groan forced from both their lips.

“Boy scout motto,” Vex says, gently placing the condom on the head of his cock and rolling it down, gentle, light touch making Percy close his eyes as she works the rubber down the shaft of him. She lifts herself, leaning down over Percy to give him another kiss and lining them up with one hand between their bodies. It will be the work of a moment for him to slide up into her entrance and-

_Tap, tap, tap_. It’s the sound of the butt of a flashlight hitting a side window, a local sheriff peering in before quickly standing up with a cough of embarrassment. Vex bolts up, smacking her head against the headliner with a loud  _thump_ and, pressing one hand to the forming goose egg, uses the other to tug her tank top from where it landed—over the center console—to place it horizontally over her breasts. Percy’s blush, creeping down cheeks and freckled shoulders, cannot quite be hidden the same way. He’s already tucked himself uncomfortably back inside his boxers, fighting denim to pull his jeans back up over his knees.

“Uh, son? You’re Percival de Rolo, aren’t you? Your sister is throwing quite the fuss, and I’m to see you make it home safe for dinner.”

“He is. Thank you, officer. I’m afraid we broke down,” Vex says, pulling the tank top over her head sans bra and throwing Percy’s button-up down to him from the back deck. “I…” she looks down at their bottomless situation and stalls out, unable to think of the next words that will charm the officer out of a public indecency charge. Percy notices tilts his head to indicate she should move back. He sits up when Vex pulls her legs to her, looking up out the window.

“We’ll be decent in just a moment, officer. My apologies,” he says up at the figure, shrugging on the button-up and quickly doing the buttons, adjusting his cuffs.

“Of course. I’ll be in my car,” the officer says. Percy rakes his hands through his hair, returning it to the usual level of dishevelment, and slides his glasses from the seat pocket with two fingers, settling them back on his nose.

“If you can get to the front seat I can give you some room and privacy to change outside,” Percy says. Vex nods, lithely scrambling over the center console and into the driver’s seat in a move Percy would find incredibly arousing if the Law wasn’t literally behind them, waiting.

Percy nods to himself and opens the car door, stepping out into the cold and pulling his jeans back up over his ass. Vex has gotten the message, opening her own door and shimmying into her tight jeans from within the confines of the car, standing up to finish the job with Percy’s body and the back door blocking the sight-line of the police officer. Percy reaches back into the car to grab the sweater he took off earlier, handing it to Vex in silence with a significant glance downward. His cheeks are a light enough pink she could probably blame it on the cold, but the small tents in her shirt when she glances down convinces her otherwise.

She grabs the warm fabric in his hands, pressing it to her chest before pulling it over her head. It hangs on her, but it smells like him.

Now that it’s hers he will never get it back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say how blown away I am by the response this has gotten. The Critical Role fandom is the best, most welcoming and responsive fandom I've ever been part of, and my inbox can attest to that. Things I'm thankful for this year, tbh.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On their way.

Percy grabs their luggage out of the back, shutting the back gate with a small slam that knocks snow from the windows an roof of Trinket onto the ground around it. Vex mentally says  _I’ll see you later buddy_ to the car, but thinks it’s best not to give the state trooper any more reasons to believe she’s insane. Speaking to her car, sex on the highway…

Oh, god. Sex on the highway. She flushes, looking away from Percy as they walk to the trooper’s car, their footprints sinking through to cement in the light, wet snow.

The trooper’s trunk opened as they approached, and Percy threw their luggage in the trunk. Vex wasn’t willing to say it was her first time in the back of a police car, but it was certainly her first time letting herself in. She slid in first, Percy behind her.

The state trooper, an older man around 50, streaks of gray receding from his temples into his hat, pointedly adjusts his rearview mirror so he can see them in the backseat. He quizzes Percy on what’s wrong with the vehicle and their plans to get it repaired (though she can’t help but raise an eyebrow at the implication that the plans are “theirs”) but Vex, for the most part, tunes the conversation out. Out the window she watches snow covered peaks.

And when she Percy him peeking at her out of the corner of his eyes, Vex puts her hand on top of his, squeezing lightly. He doesn’t shake anymore.

* * *

 Percival’s home is outside of town, up a steep, heated driveway around the backside of a bluff overlooking the expanse. The air is clear, if icy sharp in her lungs, and the house is… _beautiful_. The outside is white stone, likely the marble the city is named and famous for, with columns reaching to the second floor. An elegant symbol of five stars, a tree, and a sun is carved above the Prussian blue door.

A petite woman throws open that door, stepping into the doorframe, her eyes narrowing as she glances over Percy’s admittedly sex-rumpled attire. Vex averts her eyes, attempting not to remember sliding those same fabrics off of him.

“I love you, brother, but the nineties want their grunge aesthetic back,” she says, opening the door wider to welcome them into the warm foyer. She smiles as Vex enters, stamping her boots to get the snow off them before stepping anywhere near the gleaming wood floor. “Hello, you must be Vex. It’s so lovely to meet you, and _you_ look none the worse for wear after today’s misadventures,” she says, tossing a teasing grin back at her harried brother. He sighs, the universal sound of sibling-induced suffering, and grabs Vex’s suitcase in addition to the bag over his shoulder. Cassandra’s blonde hair is pulled into a low ponytail, a pen jabbed through the ribbon, and she wears a sweatshirt branded with an intimidatingly prestigious university, and she’s _teasing Percy._ She has the same light accent Percy does, the same bearing, the same nose, and Vex likes her instantly.

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that-” she starts to protest, but Cassandra’s already moving to the dining room, ushering her along.

“Don’t forget to put your phone on the charger, Percival!” she calls with her back turned. Vex follows her with a shrug back to Percy, who looks all too amused.

“You both must be famished. I was thinking of ordering in, do you have any food allergies or dietary restrictions?” Cassandra asks, picking up a smartphone from the top of a pile of law textbooks next to a spread of notebooks and typed papers with color-coded binder clips.

“N-no. I’ll eat anything,” Vex says. Cassandra grins, swiping through her contacts in search of a restaurant.

“That’s good, because neither of us can cook and the only place open in town on Thanksgiving is an extremely dubious Chinese restaurant.” Vex smiles in what she hopes is a reassuringly pleasant manner, eyes flitting to take in the grandeur of the room as Cassandra places the call. Two portraits hang on the wall that bear vague resemblance to both siblings, high cheekbones and strong noses with a piercing look through the eyes, and above that chandelier glows, reflections off crystal sending small shards of light across the deep green painted plaster and high, white ceiling.

“That will be at the de Rolo House,” Cassandra says, finishing the order. “Good, we’ll expect you then. Bye.” She turns on Vex, eyes bright. “Well, they’ll be here soon. I should get all of this cleaned up,” she gestures to the pile of study materials before them, “but would you like me to show you to your room, first? Percy has probably gotten your suitcase upstairs by now.”

“That would be lovely, thank you,” Vex says, again following Cassandra out of the room and now up the stairs, a beautiful, winding monstrosity of curved banisters and a plush runner. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At home.

Vex’s room is spacious and tidy, except the beaten suitcase at the foot of the bed. She settles into the room quickly, grabbing her phone charger front the front pocket of her suitcase and plugging it into a socket before investigating. Peeking into a side door, she finds an incredible clawfoot tub that calls to her instantly, a perusal of the small cabinet beside it revealing bath supplies her own feeble travel kit pales in comparison to. She brings a bath bomb to her nose as she rises on tiptoes to see out the frosted window, looking into the picturesque back yard. Old, tall trees with bare branches sway in the wind, the unexpected blizzard still raging against the town.

The bath bomb smells lovely, and feels almost as luxurious in her fingertips as the four-poster bed looks. She sets it back in the cabinet and explores further, discovering a small cache of razors, toothbrushes, and other amenities. She finds herself both impressed and intimidated by Cassandra’s preparation (because she doubts it was Percy, thoughtful as he is) when she finds multiple sizes and brands of tampons. There's a knock at the front door, so she sets aside her snooping to shimmy into a new bra. Her previous remains wherever it landed in the back of her car.

She pulls off Percy’s sweater first, setting it on the bed. She lets her fingers linger on the thick knit a moment, musing to herself.

Percy is still something of an enigma to her, if, admittedly, an enigma she can’t wait to get her hands on again. Mapping the lines of his body with her tongue won’t tell her anything about his mind, though, so she thinks perhaps she should wait. For now. She pulls on a hoodie—one of Vax's, she thinks, but the perfect weight to ward away the chill of an old house and hide the totally inappropriately bright color of her bra underneath her white tanktop, if not quite as warm as Percy's—and slings the sweater over her arm.

Her hand is on the crystal doorknob before she stops, folds the sweater back up, and sets it gently back on the bed. Then she slips into the hallway, escaping any further self-examination _that_ decision might require.

Downstairs, Cassandra unpacks the plastic sack emblazoned with a generic smiley face, handing Percy a small tin to-go container before opening another to check its contents. Vex skips down the stairs, pausing at the landing to watch the two of them. They’re both smiling, the same order in their hands, and Vex can smell the food even from where she stands, tomato and garlic permeating the air.

“This smells great,” Vex says, pivoting off the bannister as she comes down off the landing. Percy and Cassandra both look up. Percy knows she’s changed, she thinks, based on the flush brightening the tips of his ears. While his sweater is off, the scent of him still lingers on her, though, and as if he can hear her thoughts he coughs around the bite of spaghetti he’s just taken, turning away from her. Cassandra’s quick eyes have likely caught onto the change as well, but if she notices it she doesn’t say anything, and hides it better than her brother.

“How much do I owe you?” Vex asks, taking the small pile of boxes Cassandra hands to her with wide eyes. Cassandra waves off the question.

“Oh, nothing! You’re our guest,” she says, moving to sit in the middle chair at one side of the long dining room table. Percy gives her an indecipherable look, bur rather than sitting where he stands—opposite from her—he glances at the fine china laid out on the dining table and sticks a sterling silver fork in his Italian in defiance, heading across the space to the large couches before the marble fireplace. Cassandra rolls her eyes and Vex has to muffle laughter at the silent exchange of wills, but Cassandra stands again and follows him into the living room.

Vex moves to sit as well, after she’s gathered the necessary utensils and napkins (the second especially necessary, because the wide loveseats are white), but waffles at the edge of the couches. Cassandra’s choice—back against the armrest and her legs sprawled over the cushions—has left her with only two options: uncomfortably close to her, or equally close to Percy, who’s giving Cassandra another irritated look. Cassandra sighs.

“Oh, I forgot to get the parmesan,” Cassandra says nearly as soon as she’s settled, moving to stand. Vex waves her fork at her to stop her movement, and steps through the doorway. The kitchen is far too large for even the three of them, all slick, stainless appliances and immaculately organized dishes visible through cabinet glass. Vex slides around the long island, surprised to find the marble tile beneath her socked feet warm. Heated, probably, a feature she thought was reserved for HGTV homes she and Vax used to watch, staking claims on bedrooms as they filled out sweepstakes entries.

She opens the refrigerator door to find it stocked full—even a turkey defrosting on the second shelf. Her brows furrow as she reaches past whipping cream and far too much butter for the small, unopened container of parmesan. Their fridge is prepared for Thanksgiving cooking, even if they aren’t, but she isn’t sure why until she shuts the door, a pink post-it note fluttering in front of her face. It reads: “Stocked the fridge and pantry for three! Happy Thanksgiving!” punctuated with a smiley face. Maybe she shouldn’t be surprised they hire someone to do that sort of thing, but she is, nevertheless.

She sweeps her hand over the cold countertop with a sigh, looking over the big room. She’d never been interested in cooking, just baking: sweets and delicacies learned with Vax at their mother’s side. This room, with its built-in marble slab for pie crusts and proofing drawer, begs to be baked in. When she re-enters the living room the siblings haven’t moved, though Cassandra seems to have won the silent battle of wills waged between them. Her eyebrows are raised as she takes a delicate bite of pasta.

Vex hands her the parmesan and chooses the seat next to Percy, digging into the meal. She’s been spoiled by living in a big city and on a college campus, but it’s much better than she would have expected from small town Italian. She takes a big bite and looks at the fire in contemplation before Percy breaks the silence that is beginning to edge into awkward territory.

“I called to have Trinket towed to the house, because none of the shops around here are going to be open until Monday at the earliest. I can take a look at it—sorry, _him_ —if you want?” he says, carefully not looking at her as he twirls spaghetti around his fork.

“Oh, thanks! I should just be able to submit the receipt to my insurance, then,” she says, smile warm. “And of course I’m not going to turn down free car maintenance. Just let me know if you need anything!” Percy nods into his food, but she nudges him with an elbow. “Seriously. Thank you,” she says. And not just for remembering Trinket’s name, which has set her heart to flutters.

“So, I’m not sure if you have any papers to write over break, but I was thinking you might like to go Black Friday shopping with me?” Cassandra asks. Vex’s eyes light up even as she does a depressing mental calculation of her current savings account balance. If she’s  _careful_ , though, and doesn’t eat anything… Cassandra seems to take the pause for hesitation, however, and says, “Percy will drive us, of course,” eyebrows raised at the subject in question. Percy rolls his eyes, but seems to acquiesce to the demand.

“I’d love to. I’m a sucker for a sale," Vex says, preparing another forkful of pasta. “Does Whitestone have a mall?” Cassandra chuckles.

“Oh, we aren’t going shopping  _here_. They rolled up the sidewalks here yesterday. We’ll have to go into Wildmount,” she replies, a grin on her lips. “I’ll show you the stores they have available tomorrow so we can map out a battle plan.”

They finish their pasta with more chatter, tossing the used containers back into the bag. Cassandra nods to the pile of books waiting for her on the side table and her brother gives her an ironic salute. He waits for Vex to start up the stairs first, following her up to his own room, which Cassandra said was two doors down from hers, though she obviously has no idea why that particular fact stuck in her mind.

At hers, she looks over her shoulder at him, a smile and goodnight poised on her lips. His expression is intense, however, and whatever words she was going to say slip away. His fingers find her chin, lifting her face as he leans down to meet her.

His fingers wind into her hair and she stands on tiptoes to reach him, her own hands wrapped around his shoulders. It lasts just a moment, but her heart pounds in her chest even as he smirks against her lips. 

She opens the door, her hand on the crystal knob, and for a moment, just a moment, she thinks he’ll follow her in, her heart skipping a beat. Instead, he catches her free hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles, his blue eyes on hers over the gold rims of his glasses. 

“We’ll talk later,” he says, then continues down the hallway to his own room. She shuts the door and leans against it, pressing the hand to cheek, biting her lip. She could still feel the burn of his lips and curled fingers, nose scrunching as she grins into it.

When she shuts off the lights that night, settling into the large, plush bed, Vex takes a mental inventory of the fridge as she saw it. She doesn’t mind ordering in, of course—she has no particular attachment to Thanksgiving and thinks turkey is largely unappealing—but since Cassandra won't let her chip in monetarily, she can contribute in another way. She reaches for her phone on the nightstand and sets the alarm two hours earlier than anyone would expect her to be awake.

She won’t ask permission, because Cassandra would be scandalized. The dessert she has in mind, she thinks, will be quite enough to earn forgiveness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cassandra ships it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the kitchen.

Vex pads down to the kitchen in the early morning, a blue cast over the house as the morning sun filters between mountains. The window over the kitchen sink offers a view of the driveway, and there Trinket sits. She’s glad to see the old boy, feeling an age has passed in the hours since she and Percy broke down. She’s also glad because she only thought to pack two bras, and her newer, prettier one is currently sitting somewhere within Trinket’s depths.

The blizzard has left a thick blanket of snow over the lawn marred only by the tow truck’s tires, but a glance at the thermometer next to the sink reveals a mild morning for late November in the mountains. It’s hours before Cassandra and Percy wake, and she supposes she shouldn’t be surprised Cassandra is no more of a morning person than Percy. She hums to herself in the bright, clear daylight, looking down at the whipped cream in her hands. The pie is in the oven, and now she prepares the topping.

She jumps when she notices Percy enter the kitchen, eyebrows raised and hair wild, damp from his shower. He approaches and looks over her shoulder, his warmth sinking into her bones. While she looks up with surprise, though, he sneaks his finger into the cinnamon whipped cream, raising it to his lips with a smirk. His cheeks hollow as he cleans the finger and she flushes, swallowing hard but unable to look away.

“That is… very good,” Percy says, backing off with a smug smile. She battles the urge to chase, and see how much better it tastes off his tongue. “So. Perhaps it’s time for that talk?” She clears her throat and looks down into the bowl, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“I’ll be whisking this for...” she raises the whisk out of the white, foamy concoction, eying it critically, “a while longer, at least. Consider me a captive audience.”

Percy pauses, leaning against the counter. He wears another button-down, the sleeves rolled up, his forearms flexing as he rolls his weight back onto his palms behind him on the countertop. She attacks the wrist whipping motion with more fervor, distracting herself with the work. She waits for him to speak, but words don’t appear to be forthcoming, his eyes focused on nothing as he thinks. She sets the bowl down with a sigh.

"Look, Percy, we don’t have to… continue, if you don’t want to. I’m kind of stuck here, but I wouldn’t dream of making your family holiday awk-“

He kisses her, taking the initiative yet again. She could get used to that, she thinks, her hand on his cheek and her messy fingertips kept carefully from his hair. It’s short and sweet, but after he lingers close to her, their chests almost touching with each inhale.

"I wasn’t, perhaps, in the right headspace. Yesterday. In the car,” he says, one hand coming to the back of his neck, a sheepish grin on his face. “But... I was going to ask if you wanted to go for coffee some time?” She can’t help the wide smile that creeps onto her lips, stepping back a little so she can look up at his face.

“I think we already did that,” she says with a wink in what she hopes is a low, flirty voice, remembering taking coffee in his apartment. She lets her hands linger on his chest even though she’s pulled away slightly. He huffs a laugh she can feel through her palms.

“Dinner, then.” She leans in, reaching on tiptoes to whisper.

_“We’re kind of doing that now, Percy,”_ he rolls his eyes, but his smile is genuine. The weight that was on his shoulders appears lifted for the moment, at least.

“Well, what does one typically do on the third date, then?” he asks, one eyebrow cocked.

“If you’re _really_ lucky,” she says, walking her fingertips up to his shoulder. “oh, wait, we very nearly did that, too,” she says, snickering.

“You’re impossible, Vex’ahlia,” he says, capturing her hand in his. Taking the whisk in free hand, she blobs a dollop of freshly whipped cream on the tip of his nose, ignoring his adorable faux-indignation.

“I don’t know what we do next, but we’ll figure it out, darling.”

They can hear Cassandra shuffling down the stairs and quickly separate, a blush on both their cheeks from shared kisses and secrets.

“There’s coffee, Cassandra,” Vex says. Cassandra pokes her head into the room with bleary eyes, her hair mussed with sleep. She shuffles in, plush bunny slippers sliding across the tile floor. Vex hides a grin in her own coffee, amused to see even Cassandra—who seemed the picture of composure last night—has a weakness. Instead of pouring a cup herself, Cassandra steals the cup Percy has just finished pouring, shuffling back out of the room.

Percy just rolls his eyes and grabs another mug, pouring yet another cup. Vex likes seeing him like this—relaxed and casual—interacting with his sister with the same irritated adoration she reserves for Vax.

“How old is Cassandra?” Vex asks, thinking they must be close in age to be so close. She takes a sip before Percy answers, and almost spits it out when he does. He smirks at the reaction, taking a sip of his own even as his face falls.

“She graduated two years early as an emancipated minor,” he says into his cup’s dark depths. He gives her a small smile that doesn’t reach his eyes and dumps the rest of his coffee down the drain. “I’m going to go work on Trinket until dinner.”

She plants a kiss on his cheek as he reaches past her.

“Thank you, darling,” she says. He nods, and gets to work.

Percy tinkers with Trinket for the better part of two hours. Vex watches out the front window, sipping hot chocolate. A touch of her whipped cream adorns the top, and she licks it off her top lip as she looks out the window. Percy leans under the hood, soot streaked up his forearms, hair pushed back away from his face. He pulls his glasses off, rubbing a sleeve across his eyes and leaving a line of grease across his cheekbone. The pie comes out of the oven and she waits for it to cool, watching still. She tears her eyes away to text her brother.

** Vex: Did you and Keyleth make it ok? **

** Vax: yes **

Rolling her eyes and muttering “yes, brother, Percy and I made it too, thanks for asking,” she turns to her group chat with her housemates, texting “Happy thanksgiving!” Pike responds first.

** Pike: what r u thankful for this year **

Vex is about to respond when Cass approaches, pen behind her ear.

“Is he _still_ outside?” Cassandra asks, putting her palms on the sink to look up over the sill. “I’ll go get him. Take-out should be here in an hour!”

Cassandra stomps out into the snow, visible in front of the house in a moment. She’s slipped on winter boots, but the air is mind enough she didn’t bother with a coat. They talk for a moment before Percy pulls down the hood, starting toward the house. He glances toward the window, putting his glasses back on his nose, and Vex ducks out of the way. She narrowly avoids both being spotted by the man she was ogling and spilling hot chocolate on herself.

** Vex: mechanical problems ;) **


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the table.

Cassandra opens the front door as Vex steps into the hall. She stomps her feet to clear the snow and rolls her eyes.  
“He’ll be in in just a moment,” she says, moving past Vex and up the stairs. For the first time since Syngorn, Vex wonders if she’s expected to change for dinner. Likely one of them would have mentioned, she thinks.  
  
Percy opens the door with a puff of cold air, Vex still leaning against the kitchen doorframe with a drink in hand. He grins at her, hair disheveled, and heads up the steps to change. If her eyes linger on his ass, no one’s around to know. Cassandra is setting the table in the dining room and Vex joins her. She hasn’t seen this many forks since her father’s dinner table, but Cassandra places them expertly and Vex copies.  
  
If Vex notices how many extra places they’re setting one, two, three, four, five, she doesn’t comment. By the time she’s finished that and putting the final touches on her pie, the doorbell rings. Cassandra answers it, and the food is laid on the table with a certain degree of ceremony before they all dig in.  
  
And, honestly, it’s lovely. Percy teases Cassandra about her girlfriend as she raises her eyebrow at him—an expression she recognizes from Percy’s own face. Chinese take-out isn’t the most traditional Thanksgiving meal she’s ever had, but she could get used to it quite easily, she thinks.  
  
“What are you studying, Vex’ahlia?” Cassandra asks, dumping more of her food out onto her plate with a liberal coating of soy sauce.  
  
“Well, accounting, technically,” Vex says, readying another bite. “But I also work at the animal shelter part-time, so I registered in some pre-vet classes. Those looked like some heavy-duty books the other day,” Vex says with a smile that echoes Cassandra’s own. “What are you studying?”  
  
“Well, some of those are just… research,” Cassandra says, glancing at Percy. “But I’m pre-law, so really I’ll have to read them eventually anyway. I’m majoring in English, though. Late eighteenth, early nineteenth century gothic literature.” Vex nods, eyebrows raised.  
  
“That’s the Poe, Shelley, Stoker era, right?”  
  
“Right.” Cassandra grins. "I’m a sucker for a good horror story, but our parents were the real literature nerds, if you couldn’t tell from the absurdly long names and the house.” Vex doesn’t want to push, but she can’t deny her curiosity. She knows Percy’s parents are dead. He’d mentioned it long ago, when explaining why he had a big, empty house on campus to fill up with renters. She can’t help her gaze drifting to the place settings next to them, knowing they weren’t the only ones the de Rolo family had lost.  
  
Cassandra doesn’t seem inclined to continue, however, and since they are all scraping the bottom of their oyster pails now Vex darts into the kitchen to retrieve her pie.  
  
She sets it on the table without ceremony, cutting into it. She cuts a piece for Cassandra first, looking up to her for guidance as to size. She wouldn’t have expected it from Cassandra, but she motions Vex’s hands further apart until Vex is cutting a truly massive slice of pie. Cassandra grins.  
  
“You have no idea how long it’s been since I’ve had homemade pie. Percival’s lucky I’m not eating it all,” Cassandra says. She grabs the next fork inward as Vex cuts Percy and herself slightly more moderate slices, placing them on two desert plates before settling back into her seat.  
  
Honestly, it’s not much, she thinks, looking down at the piece. The whipped cream is slowly sliding off her slice, crust cracked beneath it. It’s the spiced pumpkin pie she remembers her mother making though, with her own addition of cinnamon whipped cream. She determinedly does not watch them take their first bites.  
  
“This is delicious,” Percy says, cutting another bite. When Vex looks up from blushing into her plate, she sees Cassandra looking thoughtfully at her brother over the rim of her mug. Her eyes track to him, but he isn’t looking at Cassandra as she expected. Instead, his eyes are on her, a small smile and look of wonder to match the wide grin that stretched across her face at his compliment. She feels the urge to reach forward and tangle her fingers with his, but she stifles it, taking another sip from her mug.  
  
“Well, I’m stuffed. We’d better get moving if we want to be there when the mall opens, though,” Cassandra says, standing to clear her plate.  
  
“I’d be happy to help with dishes,” Vex says. Cassandra nods.  
  
“I’ll wash, you dry?” Percy offers, standing and pushing his chair back in.  
  
“And I’ll put them away,” Cassandra says. Percy and Vex head into the kitchen with the dirty dishes in hand as Cassandra gathers the clean plates and flatware from the table, stacking them. Their elbows bump as they settle in front of the sink, running water.  
  
“Will Cassandra drive, since Trinket is out of commission?” Vex asks, grabbing a dish towel.  
  
“Oh, Cassandra doesn’t drive. We keep a car here, though, so I will." Cassandra, who has donned gloves, scrapes food off the plates as gently as possible before handing them to Percy, who dunks and scrubs them. Vex grabs them from him, brushing warm, sudsy fingers. They spend a few minutes' time in rhythm, Cassandra coming to Vex's other elbow to put the delicate china away.  
  
Eventually they congregate at the front door, bundled up and toting snacks, except Percy. She looks at him a moment before realizing.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry. Your coat is upstairs, I'll just go-" but he's already pulling a long, thick blue coat from a nearby closet. He wears an amused smirk as he slides it on.  
  
"I didn't expect it back. I've had to listen to three years of everyone in the house claiming you're a hoarder of sweaters and blankets." She wrinkles her nose at him.  
  
"I'm not that bad."  
  
"Yes, you are. It's endearing."  
  
Cassandra claims she prefers to ride in the back, so Vex shrugs, climbing into the car. Which is... quite a car. She'd tried not to let her surprise show when they walked to the heated garage, wide door raising to reveal a sleek black towncar. She could see chains on the tires, but she can't see an actual price tag though it looks, and smells, brand new.  
  
Percy adjusts his seat and backs expertly down the driveway, avoiding Trinket.The drive to the nearest mall takes about two hours, sky dark and spitting small snowflakes, time they fill with light conversation. Vex tells Cassandra about Vax and Trinket, which Percy mentions he plans on spending some time with the following day. After sleeping, she thinks, but glancing down at the thermos of espresso in the cup holder wonders if he'll ever sleep again. Cassandra is fascinated by the idea of buying a car for $700 (it was initially $1000, Vex brags with a wink) but she doesn't add the cost of hospital bills or her recent inability to meet strangers.  
  
"I have some shopping of my own to do," Percy says, breaking the comfortable silence as they pull into the mall's parking lot. When he drops them at the door, a light dusting of snow still falling. There’s already a line, but Cassandra and Vex join it, huddling together for warmth.  
  
They're finally let in at midnight, weary workers in festive headbands opening the doors wide. Even shod in clunky snowboots, Cassandra with her shoulders thrown back and her piercing gaze focused before her has the air of authority that does not ask permission. The crowd parts for her like the divine walks among them. Cassandra's high ponytail bobs as she walks, and it is all Vex can do to keep pace as she scouts and scours the aisles.  
  
Vex is older than Cassandra, but in that moment she realizes she wants to be her when she grows up.  
  
When they emerge with their hauls, Vex with earrings for Pike and boots for herself, Cassandra with a pastel leather jacket Vex knows isn't for her, they find Percy under the nearest street lamp, white hair glowing gold in its light. Snowflakes dance above him like dust in a sunbeam and she can't help but be struck by how gorgeous he is. Of course she'd always known he was handsome, but Percy was... more than he thought he was. And more than she'd thought he was, for too long, to her.  
She doesn't notice the big bag sitting next to him until she and Cassandra maneuver their way across the slushy roadway. She can see the name of the mall's anchor store automotive department on the outside.  
  
"What'd you get?" she asks. He looks down at the bag and she can see the wheels turning behind his eyes.  
  
"Oh, just a simple part for you and a few things for our car. The part for Trinket was around $20." Vex looks down at the large, lumpy bag and the new, perfectly tuned car she just spent two hours in.  
  
She rises up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you roll a nat1 deception and sometimes a nat20. Percy hates pumpkin pie is both accurate and a tongue twister.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the garage. At the church.

When Vex wakes up late in the morning she finds Percy already at work on Trinket. She had slept in the car on the way home, the lull of the road and good deals pulling her under. She heads out with two cups of coffee and his coat wrapped around her, setting them on a toolset as she comes up behind him. He’s intent on his work, a sheen of sweat rising on a furrowed brow, glasses falling down his nose. She can see the mark where he’s been pushing them up, a black smudge of grease.

She smacks his ass, noting the lump of fabric in his back pocket as she does so. He jumps, but seems to have trained himself to put his hand above his head before he does so, bumping against it rather than Trinket’s hood.

“Good morning, Vex,” he says, an edge of amusement in his voice. He doesn’t look back at her, but rather continues his work. She glances around at the auto part boxes strewn around the workshop. An air filter, an oil filter, multiple other boxes in vary states of ripped open. One part, indeed.

She leans beside him, facing toward him rather than toward Trinket’s exposed engine.

“Good morning, Percival. I brought you coffee.”

“You’re my favorite,” he says, leaning forward to screw something down tight. When he stands back up, there’s a smirk on his face that belies the flush at his ears. He hasn’t shaved yet this morning, and it’s a _good_ look on him, the light dusting emphasizing a strong jawline and the blue of his eyes. “I have something for you, too.”

“Oh?” Vex says, leaning closer. Percy reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a square of lace fabric in a very familiar deep emerald green.

“I found this in the backseat. Thought you might want it back?” Percy says. She takes the bra, putting it in her—well, Percy’s—coat pocket, and winks. She moves closer to him, sharing heat in the cool garage, and walks her fingers up her chest. He’s wearing only one layer, a henley, and she can see goosebumps raise on the exposed skin of his collarbone. His Adam’s apple bobs as she watches, and she finds she wants to trace its movement with her tongue. Standing as they are, the height difference between them is stark. She’s average height, but Percy stands a full head taller than her. She tilts her head up to him, and he leans down to her, both of their eyes riveted to the other’s lips.

“Want to trade it for a different one?” Vex asks, her voice breathy between them. Percy doesn’t answer. Instead, he shoots forward, hands wrapping around her waist and drawing her closer to him, pressing their bodies together. Her lips open to release a sigh when he brushes against her breasts, but he’s already there, chasing a kiss. She can’t find it in herself to worry about stubble burn, and leans up and tangles her hands in his hair, arms crossed behind his neck.

She hums against him, and he traces the curve of her spine down to her ass, letting his hand rest there. They tilt their heads for a deeper kiss, Vex’s arms falling to his shoulders, stroking the muscles there through the ridged material of his shirt. She gasps, chuckling, when he squeezes her ass, and instinctually arches into his erection, which jumps, growing harder at the contact.

“Percy,” she groans in the breath of air between them, their pants filling the garage. He chases, and she surrenders to the kiss, his hand at her ass now massaging the cheek. Her brain stutters as a spike of warm arousal hits her, but she continues. “Percy, we should go ins-”

But as they pause, blood pounding in their ears, they can telltale crunch of footfalls on snow not far outside the garage door. They hastily separate. Vex can feel the press of cold without his body heat, but draws closer to the  neatly organized tools lining one wall of the three car garage, pretending sudden fascination. The crunches stop at the side door she’d just come through, and Cassandra knocks.

Vex looks over, and realizes that from where Cassandra stands she can likely only see two full mugs of coffee on a toolset, and has decided not to come in. “Don’t forget Keeper Yennen is expecting you today, brother!” Percy’s eyes widen and he clears his throat.

“Of course, Cass. Thanks for reminding me.” The footfalls move away from the door, back into the house, and Vex deflates against the tool bench. When she glances up at Percy, he gives her a canny look.

“Do you want to come with me somewhere today?” He asks, a tinge of nervousness in his voice. He picks up the wrench he was using and brings it over to the missing slot in the tool wall behind her, slotting it into place.

“That sounds great, Percy,” Vex says, drawing closer to him. She cups him, running her hand up is length through the material of his jeans. Whatever words he was going to say die in his throat, his eyebrows rising as he looks down at her. “But _later_ , let’s finish what we’ve started.” She tugs him down for another kiss before stepping away.

“Later,” he says, eyes trailing her. She slips out the door with a smile on her lips, taking her cup of coffee with her.

* * *

Vex has always been one to love a good euphemism, but she truly did not expect Percy to take her to church. They pull up to the squat white building and Vex looks at the sign, which proclaims it as a Temple of Erathis. She didn’t know Percy was religious. Her surprise must have shown, because Percy chuckles, shifting into park. He’s cleaned up for the excursion, but she doesn’t tell him about the endearing smear left behind his ear.

They enter the building through a side door, which empties into a large, bustling kitchen. She can see a group of older people in the next room, folding chairs pulled up to a small speaking stage. The singular occupant of the kitchen approaches them, a broad smile on his face.

“Keeper Yennen,” Percy says, grasping hands with the elderly man before him. The man nods, white beard brushing his chest.

“Percival. And you’ve brought a friend?” He asks, smiling at Vex. She smiles back, shaking the hand he offers.

“Vex’ahlia. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she says. Yennen nods approvingly toward her and Percy, then gestures to the room.

“Well, everyone is ready, if you want to speak,” Yennen says, a twinkle of amusement in his eye. Percy responds with a laugh.

“You know that isn’t my thing. Of course we’ll continue supporting the Whitestone charities we always have, in the amount we always have,” Percy says, glancing around the kitchen. “Seems like it’s time for a renovation this year, too, so just get with our people and we’ll figure it out.”

“Many thanks and the blessing of Erathis, Percival. I’ll let everyone know. Will you be staying for lunch?”

“To eat, no, but if you need a hand I think we’d be willing?” He glances over at Vex and she nods her assent. The Keeper claps his hands together.

“Well, you know where to get started. We’ll serve lunch in ten minutes,” he said, then exited, heading toward, presumably, his gathered flock. Percy handed Vex an apron off the rack next to her and grabbed one for himself, tying it efficiently. She wrapped her strings once around, tying them in front. Percy gestured for her to follow him, bringing her to a line of wrapped containers. Percy pulled one open, revealing steaming mixed vegetables.

“They serve meals every day here, and also coordinate cleaning, car service, or any other need the elderly of Whitestone might have. I think Cassandra said she’s bringing in technology teachers once a month, too, so everyone can stay in contact with their families.”

“That’s amazing. And you guys just… pay for it?” Vex asks, pulling on rubber gloves and taking the serving spoon Percy offers her.

“It’s in our parents’ names,” Percy says, stirring the food before him. “Cassandra and I… are not as good as they were. They were always fundraising, donating their time and money to charities. But we try.” Vex puts her hand on Percy’s shoulder, but says nothing. He shoots her a grateful look as Keeper Yennen begins a short prayer. Vex stops what she’s doing out of respect, but notices Percy’s eyes also stay open for the duration.

When he finishes, Percy and Vex begin preparing trays to bring to the elderly who have gathered, who now disperse from their folding chairs to the tables set up in place of pews. Vex delivers the first four without incident, but on the fifth is stopped by an elderly woman with a fluff of silver hair perched atop her head like a cotton ball.

“You two look good together. He looks so much happier now than he did growing up,” the woman says. Vex’s eyes track to Percy, who smiles at an elderly man who’d volunteered to help with trays, and she can feel a blush spreading across her cheeks.

“You knew Percy when he was growing up?” she asks.

“Only by reputation. And as the sad teenager on the front of the newspaper.”

“Newspaper?” Vex asks, leaning closer out of curiosity.

“Oh, honey. The de Rolos own almost everything in town: the grocery store, most of the rentals… the White Castle franchise. There are more of them buried in the town cemetery than hairs on my husbands head,” she says, leaning in from a sideways glance at her dozing, elderly, and, yes, balding, husband. Her voice drops to a church whisper. “And after that awful car crash… well. Too many, honey. Take care of him, you hear me?” Vex nods, setting the tray before her and stepping away from the table backward, glad of the escape.

When she returns to Percy behind the counter she laces her fingers with his. He looks down in surprise, but when his gaze swivels back to the intent look on her face he seems to recognize it, his face falling.

“Later,” she whispers, gripping tighter. He squeezes back.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the bedroom.

The car ride is quiet—almost as quiet as it was while she slept on their way to Whitestone, but between them, this time, her hand is in his. Questing fingertips smooth over years old, flat raised scars on his fingers and palms. Cassandra is gone when they arrive, and out of mutual, silent assent they both drift up the stairs toward Percy’s room. He sheds his coat and takes hers, and she looks around the space.

His room has little in the way of personal effects, a sketchbook on the side table and an intricate, exploded diagram on the dark wood desk, completed machinery next to it beside an unrolled set of tools. The light filters in the window, clear and bright as it comes off the snow.

He sits, pulling off his boots, and motions for her to sit next to him. She slides out of her own shoes, tucking her legs under her as she settles into the deep blue coverlet. Percy swallows hard, but she leans into him, putting her hand on his shoulder and her other arm across his chest from behind.

“Percy, I have to ask. What happened to your family?” she starts. “I know it… hurts you, to talk about, but I want to hear it from _you_ , not someone or somewhere else.” Percy sighs, running his hand through his hair, white strands in disarray as he rakes through them.

“They died,” Percy says, leaning forward onto his hand. “There was a car accident not far from where we broke down. Two cars, because the family was so large. In front, my mother was driving, and behind her, Julius, my elder brother.” He buries his eyes in his palms. “Cassandra… dragged me from the car. She saved my life. But my mother, my father, Julius, his fiancée, Vesper, Oliver, Whitney and Ludwig…”

His voice is steady, melodic in the sense that she wonders whether this current of information could even _be_ stymied at this point, but Vex’s breath catches in her chest as she realizes the magnitude of Percy’s loss. The breath settles as a pain around her chest, a bone deep ache for what he has suffered. She’d known he was an orphan, but to lose so many in one fell swoop would be devastating. She remembers the all-encompassing, gut-wrenching emptiness that even one parent’s death had left in her and Vax's lives.

“My parents’ car had a mechanical malfunction, and Julius wasn’t able to stop. A mechanical fluke, the reports say,” there’s a dark, amused edge to his voice. "The media suspected my father’s greatest political rivals, but in better years they’d been named Cass’ godsparents. My own godsparent, Anna, had little use for me, so I spent the remainder of my childhood at boarding school.

“I didn’t see her for almost five years until I came back home. When I did, I used my trust fund to file a civil suit against them, which we won, and helped Cass become an emancipated minor. We… we’re getting better, I think."

“I’m sorry, Percy,” Vex says, thumb rubbing a circle into his shoulder. He chuckles a bit, resting his hand over top of hers.

"I try not to dwell on it anymore. In the past, I… well, it wasn’t a pleasant time.” She wonders if, like her and Vax, he could never quite forgive himself for not dying with his family.

“Everything you’ve suffered, and endured, and created, has made you into the person you are now. You have a brilliant mind, and any darkness that might cloud your vision will never overtake you."

"Thank you,” he says, his voice going soft. “I’m not quite there yet, but I would like to think I’m better than I think I am, and I know you’re a better person than you think you are.” She laughs at the pivot and he turns his head toward the sound instinctually, bringing their lips within the space of a breath.

Percy inhales sharply before he brings his hands to the sides of Vex's face, brushing back thick, silky hair away. He draws her to him, her arms falling limp at her sides as their lips brush before they snake around his waist. He frees her braid, fingers carding through her hair as his tongue slipped into her mouth. His fingers pressed against the base of her skull, strong and sure, and she gasped a moan, sinking into his arms even as their kiss deepened further.

She wiggled in his arms and his hand on her hip slipped over it, curling over her ass. He gave a sharp inhale as she turned, practically in his lap, pulling away from the kiss. His eyes were half-lidded, dark with lust, and his lips were damp, slightly parted and swollen.

His fingers curl under her chin, lifting her face as he bent toward her on the bed. She parts her lips in anticipation for the kiss, but he stops a hair’s breadth from touching her. Slowly, so slowly, she lowers her left hand—brushing her knuckles over the cock restrained by his jeans. He's hard, growing harder, and the caress sends an answering spike of heat to her core. She curls her hand around the base of him and stroked upward as best she could.

He groans as she tightens her grip, squeezing as she drew her hand up his length. She unbuttons his top button and draws the zipper of his jeans down, reaching down into his boxers to brush over the head of his cock, smearing precut across his tip. She licks her lips and they meet eyes over her hand between them. Percy surges forward into a kiss, which she accepts before she pushes off the bed, sliding down the coverlet and sinking to her knees between his legs. She was wet now, gleaning a thrum of pleasure off of the low, hoarse groan that reverberated through her bones. His skin was smooth in her hand, the rough rub of the hair at his base tickling her hand at each stroke.

She speeds up, pumping him hard and fast, her rhythm steady and unfaltering. Her fingers trace the line of his veins, and she aims to map his body with the precision of a cartographer, noting and swallowing down every reaction of his skin on her lips. His breath is beginning to come in harsh pants, her body pressed against him. Vex nudges the cotton of his t-shirt upward, pressing her lips to the trail of short hairs below his navel. She tugs his jeans down further on his thighs, eyes fixed on him as she closes her mouth over his cock and sucks him deep.

Percy’s hands are white-knuckled on his thighs, but he’s a gentleman and keeps his hands out of Vex’s hair no matter how much he’d like to tangle his fingers in the dark strands. She can taste him on her tongue, salty and sharp. Relaxing her throat, she takes him as far as she can, tongue laving him as she draws back up the shaft. She swirls her tongue around the tip of him, lapping at the head until her name passes his lips in a low, harsh pant. Her lips are slick and shiny with saliva when she smirks up at him over his cock, and Percy’s pupils are blown so wide his eyes look black, his face flushed.

Vex slides her tongue up and down Percy’s dick, angling her tongue under the head and breathing over the wet stripes, sending a shiver through him. He moves his hands from his thighs to behind his back, bracing himself on the bed as he sags under the weight of the pleasure she’s giving him. She licks her way down the underside of his cock before taking it into her mouth again, pressing it to the back of her throat. Her cheeks hollow as she sucks, easing back and back onto him. Percy’s vision goes white and his hips jerk forward just a bit. She hums in pleasure, her fingers beginning to tap down her thigh and toward her core, and the sound makes her name catch in Percy’s throat, caught on a low groan.

Looking up at him she swallows, throat working around his cock, free hand massaging his thigh as her other creeps ever closer to her slit and the release that she, too, aches for. 

She draws a glowing, aching release from him as he shudders, his cock jerking in her mouth as his seed is spent. She licks it from the corner of her mouth, standing up, and Percy stands as well, rising on shaky legs.

Slowly, so slowly, they help each other undress. Percy steps out of the jeans pooled at his feet, and unzips her sweatshirt. She reaches up to pull the sleeves off and lets the fabric fall to the ground, pressing her own hands to his abdomen and working his t-shirt up over his shoulders, leaving his chest exposed to her. Scars, which she noticed before but didn’t understand, she now lets her fingers brush over them with reverence, an action that makes him swallow hard. The scars have made Percy who he is, but they could just as easily have unmade him.

He runs his hands over her breasts, cupping the weight of them in his palms even through her bra, and discards her shirt before he works the latch at the back, slowly revealing pert nipples he can’t help but lean forward to taste. Vex throws her head back as he does, the cold air and trails of wet on her skin immediately distending her nipples. Percy’s hands fall to her waistband and he looks up at her for permission, which she nods with breathless amusement. He follows the denim as it slides off of her, for each inch revealed a kiss, and his fingers find the heat of her, gently, teasingly dragging over her slit, so she arches bodily forward into him.

He meets her gaze before he leans forward, pressing the fabric to the side of her and touching his tongue between her legs. She jumps, but he steadies her with two palms on her ass, his tongue pressing into her, laving against her, lapping up every last drop of arousal he coxes from her. Percival is  _thorough,_ mapping the unexplored parts of her with an unmatchable attention to detail. He leaves no part of her untouched, her moans rising as she finds grip in his hair.

He adds a finger, sliding it deep inside her, and she lets out a gasp, eyes going wide when he curls it against her muscles, which clench desperately around him. She gaps, arching into his mouth, rocking her hips against his face as he sucks again on her clit. He hums on a word that might be her name, a slight vibration that, combined with his finger inside her, pushes her over the edge with her fingers still threaded in his hair.

Percy stands, steadying her as he does, and his cheeks hollow as he cleans the finger he’s just had inside her, a fresh wave of want hitting her as she watches. He catches her mouth with his, the musky tastes of both of them entwining on their tongues as her legs hit the edge of the bed. Percy gathers her into his arms and lifts, laying her down on his sheets. With her before him, he finally pulls down her soaked panties, stripping them from her and dropping them at their feet. He takes a moment to roll on a condom he fishes out of his jeans, Vex grinning up at him with her bottom lip caught between her teeth. 

He starts again from the bottom. His tongue traces the line of her muscles. His teeth scrape at the arch of her hipbone. When he finally climbs above her, having traversed the dips and curves of her body with heated breaths, she can feel the blunt head of him resting against her.

He eases into her and she delights in the heavy drag of him as he seats himself within her. She rolls her hips against him to test the feeling, gasping with delight as pleasure sparks through her veins. He bends his head to catch her lips, setting an even and steady pace, the friction of his cock in her aggravatingly slow.

“Percy, _fuck me_ ,” she commands. He laughs a touch breathlessly and lets more of his weight settle on her when he slides home again, pushing deeper than he had before. Any other words on her tongue died there, turning into gasps and moans of pleasure as he moves against her, driving into her, one hand curved at her hip and the other moving between their bodies to stroke her clit.

She is lost to it, drowning in the feel of him. 

When she shatters around him, blinding white behind closed lids, her eyes slide closed as she calls his name. He follows over the edge, her body clenching and rippling around him.

Then they still, panting on the same beat, him still on top of her, heavy but not unwelcome. His forehead drops to hers, still wrapped around her, gazes locked. He pulls himself away, discarding the condom and gathering her, boneless, into his arms beneath the coverlet. His lips gently brush her forehead and he sighs. Without another word, he settles in, breathing even and quiet.

The warmth of him is inviting in the hazy afterglow, and she plucks his glasses off, setting them on the bedside table. When they drift to sleep, curled together, she dreams about Percy and Whitestone and the quietude of walking through snow, their steps the only sounds for miles. She dreams of the whipped cream downstairs and, licking it off the topography of _him_ like a warm spring morning. She dreams of nothing, because she has all she needs and wants here in her arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just the (very short) epilogue to go! Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home.

She turns the key and Trinket roars back to life. She grins over at Percy, who sits beside her with his seatbelt on. He flicks the green air freshener tree hanging next to her jewel and feathers.

“How would you feel about coming for Christmas?” Percy asks, avoiding her gaze in favor of the spinning tree. She looks over at him in surprise and he shrugs. “Maybe inviting Vax? Keyleth? Everybody, if they want to come. We have the space, and Cass would love the company."

She takes her hand off the gear shift, still parked, to lean over and kiss him, his lips warm, soft, and apparently capable of promises and suggestions that make her heart feel a size too large for her chest, breath shallow with surprise. He nods at the answer, pushing up the gold frames of his glasses. Cassandra waves as they pull out of the long drive and Vex turns to wink at Percy, whose eyes are still on her.

“Let’s go home,” she says, but she thinks just maybe she’s already there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all, folks! It was quite the ride (no pun intended), and I hope you all enjoyed your own Thanksgivings this year. I know I'm thankful for the response I've gotten and for this community at large.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me at [considermehacked on tumblr](http://considermehacked.tumblr.com/)


End file.
